


Where My Sleeping Beauty Dreams

by AceMoppet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Genderfluid Katsuki Yuuri, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Sappy Katsuki Yuuri, Sappy Victor Nikiforov, Victor is bad with scares, Yuuri talks in their sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/pseuds/AceMoppet
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is generally a tough person to scare (no Yurio, he never screamed while watching the American version of the Ring that never happened it never existed). But he dares you, gentle reader, to not scream when faced with such hellish proclamations that fall from lips that would otherwise be considered sweet.Or: Yuuri talks in their sleep and scares Victor. Fluff and popcorn ensue





	Where My Sleeping Beauty Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Pointless fluff my dudes. Enjoy!

“Hey there demons!”

Victor snaps awake. “Yuuri wha…?”

“It’s ya boi, Katsuki Yuuri desuuuuuuu-mmrf.”

Victor blinks. “What the fuck?” he whispers, peeking over Yuuri’s shoulder to see their face. And, ok, so maybe he should be more concerned that Yuuri apparently has a habit of cheerfully announcing themself to demons in their sleep, but the larger, gayer part of his brain instead focuses on the soft curl of Yuuri’s hair barely brushing against the faint brown mole right underneath their jaw. It’s a marker, a sign that the mole, which is part of one (1) Katsuki Yuuri, needs to be kissed. Who is Victor to deny the whims of his gay heart?

So he leans down to brush his lips against Yuuri’s jaw, planning to follow that up with a trail up to curve of Yuuri’s cute ear, or maybe down the plane of their sweet neck, or straight across the swell of their plush cheek. It doesn’t matter, because in the next minute, Yuuri’s head snaps up, and Victor is tossed aside with a sharp SMACK! He clutches his lips in pain, vaguely mourning all the kisses that could have been, before he hears-

“Don’t follow the butterflies Vitya! They’ll kill you!”

Victor Nikiforov is generally a tough person to scare (no Yurio, he never screamed while watching the American version of the Ring that never happened it never existed). But he dares you, gentle reader, to not scream when faced with such hellish proclamations that fall from lips that would otherwise be considered sweet.

Luckily, this wakes Yuuri up from whatever dark nightmares their brain has concocted. “Victor?” they slur, slowly coming into consciousness, “Victor? Vitya? What’s wrong?”

“Yuuri,” Victor says, trying his best to calm his beating heart and breathing lungs and rushing blood. “Yuuri, what uh, what were you just dreaming about? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Yuuri blinks sleepily. “Dreaming?” they ask, rubbing at their eyes and yawning, “I don’t-haaa- don’t remember dreaming?”

What. “Are you sure?” Victor asks, practically demands, because his heart’s still racing and his throat aches in the aftermath of his scream.

Yuuri scrunches their face in thought, which would usually be cute if Victor hadn’t just been scared to death. “Yes,” they say finally, “I don’t remember anything. Sorry Vitya.” Their eyes turn soft as they take in Victor’s huddled form. They reach out, softly brushing their fingers over Victor’s knuckles, which are sore and pale from gripping the blankets. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking them? Victor thinks, a bit hysterically. “No,” he says, rather calmly for what he just experienced, “I-I’m alright.” Dammit.

Yuuri squints their eyes. “No you’re not,” they declare, before swinging their legs off the bed and getting up. “Come on.”

Victor blinks. “Where?”

“To the living room. I’ll put on a movie. Oh!” Yuuri turns around, smiling softly, “Could you make us some popcorn please?”

Victor drops the blanket in shock.

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting on the couch with a bowl of (diet-approved, unsalted and unbuttered) popcorn between them. Yuuri plucks a popcorn and throws it upwards, catching it with their mouth as they press ‘play’. It’s a good thing Victor’s sitting down; he’d hate to have to call in late for practice tomorrow because of his weak gay legs failing him. Though he suspects he might have to call in late anyways; the movie Yuuri put on is around one-and-a-half hours long, and it’s already 2 in the morning.

Yuuri leans forward and places the bowl on the table in front of them before holding out their arms expectantly.

“Cuddle?” And Victor is definitely not a man to turn away from cuddles, especially when Yuuri is looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes and that sweet little smile. So he bundles himself into Yuuri’s arms, eyes falling shut in contentment when Yuuri kisses his forehead ever so gently.

They watch the movie in silence. Slowly, Victor relaxes completely into Yuuri’s arms, finally feeling the last few dregs of his fear dissipate into thin air. At one point, Yuuri’s hand comes up to pet Victor’s head, and the feeling of fingers running through his hair makes Victor drowsy enough to - not fall asleep, per se, but he’s somewhere on the threshold of asleep and awake.

In fact, he might just be sleeping when Yuuri starts to whisper. “Phichit and I used to watch this movie all the time whenever one of us got nightmares.”

Victor shifts sleepily and looks up. Yuuri’s face is painted a pale pink in the glow of the TV, and they’re looking down at him, eyes warmer than the warmest blanket, and just as soft. If it was up to Victor, he’d spend the rest of his days gladly staring into Yuuri’s eyes; he needs to make a map of them after all, for all the poor, poor souls who get lost in their eyes every single day. For now though, he just sleepily stares up at Yuuri, trying to parse together a single, coherent thought in his slumber-stuffed brain.

“But I didn’t have one,” he says finally, voice raspy and low and slow to come out of his mouth. He watches as Yuuri’s hands cup his face, smiling quietly when they squish his cheeks ever so softly.

“Mm,” Yuuri says, “but you were scared, weren’t you?”

And that. That Victor can’t deny. Though really, why should he? Yuuri loves him, and they won’t stop loving him if he admits he got scared because of Yuuri, right? Right.

“You don’t need to tell me why. Just know I’m here, ok?” And it’s the easy way they say that, the way they just offer comfort and support, that makes Victor melt.

“Oh my Yuuri,” he says, relishing in the way Yuuri’s name falls off his tongue, “thank you. You didn’t have to do all this, though.”

Yuuri smiles and squishes Victor’s cheeks again. “But I wanted to,” they say simply before ruffling their hand through Victor’s messy bedhead. “Now,” they say, somehow manhandling Victor’s head into their lap, “sleep my love, I’ll carry you to bed.”

“But-”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, cutting Victor off as they finger the shell of Victor’s ear. They lean in, and Victor thinks he trembles when Yuuri’s lips brush against his lobe. “Sleep,” they whisper, and somehow that makes Victor relax completely. If Yuuri insists…

So he buries himself into Yuuri’s lap, practically shoving his entire head into Yuuri’s soft stomach. He feels Yuuri’s quiet laughter against the tip of his nose and smiles, soft and safe in Yuuri’s arms. The last thing he feels before nodding off entirely is Yuuri’s fingers combing through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> (They were watching Barbie and the Magic of the Pegasus)


End file.
